Work Text:
Daniel woke up, walked to the bathroom, and raised his head to look at his reflection. He screamed.
The door opened with a crash as the wood splintered at the pressure of Armand’s shoulder ramming into it. He steadied himself again before calling out Daniel’s name, his voice cracking at the vision standing in front of him. They both knew this should be impossible, yet here they were staring at a face they had not seen in fifty years.
His grey hair was brown, his face smoother and freckled from the sun, and his body was smaller, thinner limbed and scrawny features in comparison to the grown and developed body of the man who should be stood there. It was like the clock had flown backwards, throwing them into their first years together, as Daniel Molloy stood in the body of his twenty-year-old self.
Daniel was going to kill Lestat if Armand didn’t get to him first.
He sat on the couch in clothes that didn’t fit right anymore. His t-shirt is too loose, his trousers are baggy, and even his socks feel wrong like this. Despite the fabric-fueled discomfort, something that he will never mock Armand about ever again, Daniel can only really focus on his hands. They aren’t shaking. They’re steady, held flat on his lap, but if he wanted to move them he could. Complete control for the first time in months.
Louis’ hand rests on his knee and Daniel forces himself to look up and meet his eyes. The green orbs are filled with equal amounts of sympathy and confusion. Louis knew this face, too. It was the boy who survived the night, who got to live and grow old. That had been a fact that Louis was proud of, but now it was like he had been taken back to that night, too. Regardless, his sympathy still made Daniel antsy.
Not even the sight of Armand looming over Lestat as he sat pouting in the armchair could cheer him up. Armand had been yelling at him for almost an hour now, demanding to know what Lestat had done and how he intended to fix it. Despite his insistence that he had nothing to do with it, Lestat took the scolding in stride.
“What is the problem?” Lestat insisted before waving his hand at Daniel. “Your lover is back to his former self. Why would that upset you?”
Daniel hated to say it, but Lestat was right. Why would Armand want the real Daniel back when he could have the one he fell in love with first? His older self was bitter, negative, and one step closer to keeling over at any second. At least this Daniel, as stupid as he was, was fun to be around. He had been up for any of Armand’s ideas and only had him help him for fun, not out of necessity when his hands were too shaky to type or open a damn bottle.
“God, you are even more stupid than you look!” Armand yelled before grabbing Lestat by the back of the neck and dragging him towards the door. “You and I are going to fix this, brat,” He shoved Lestat to the door, ignoring the yelp of pain as he landed on the ground, and turned to Daniel.
He hesitated. Daniel couldn’t remember the last time Armand had hesitated at the sight of him. Even when he was parading himself around as a member of staff, Armand had exuded a type of confidence that seemed impenetrable. But now, he hesitates, unsure.
“I’ll be back soon,” Armand promised before following Lestat out the door.
It was a pathetic thought. One that belonged to a helpless, lovesick teenager, and not a near seventy-year-old man. But – despite himself – all Daniel could think was that Armand hadn’t kissed him goodbye.
Louis placed the glass onto the table, pausing to adjust the coaster by pulling it closer to the edge, before sitting down next to Daniel again. He cleared his throat, running his palms over his thighs, before forcing a smile.
“Mama used to say there was nothing like a refreshing cold drink when you’re stressed,” Louis paused, frowning again. “Or maybe that was the nanny,”
“My money’s on the nanny,” Daniel said, grimacing at the sound of his own voice. It was higher than it should be, but less strained or gruff. He sounded like a twelve-year-old.
“You’re probably right,” Louis said, trying to laugh, but the noise sounded forced, and painful. The silence was easier for him. He patted Daniel’s knee, letting it linger until Daniel looked up at him. He smiled. “He’ll fix it. Don’t worry so much, okay?”
“What if he doesn’t want to?” Daniel asked before he could stop himself. The question hung in the air between them, surprising even Daniel, until he looked away, running his hands down his face and groaning into his palms. “I’m supposed to be freaked out about my pension not worried I’ll end up looking like a boy toy again,”
Louis laughed, shaking his head, as he patted Daniel’s shoulder.
“Look, I can’t say I know what you’re going through,” He said. “But I do know that regardless of what happens, you and Armand are going to work it out together.”
Daniel nodded, forcing a smile of his own, before excusing himself and heading towards the bedroom. He knew they were only trying to help, but it didn’t help to hear two beautiful immortals talk about how Armand wouldn’t care either way, that he may even prefer it. Was it so wrong for Armand to love him as he is?
The door closed softly. Daniel didn’t move.
He had hidden away in the bedroom for hours. He changed out of his ill-fitting clothes, dressed in his underwear, and lay under the quilt he and Armand shared. It was some awful, kitschy design that Armand had found on one of his online shopping binges. They had planned on throwing it out after seeing it for the first time, but it was so comfortable they never did. Now, Daniel held over his head, not wanting to risk any sight of himself.
The bed dipped at his side as Armand settled beside him. He laid close enough for Daniel to feel his coldness, but far enough that they couldn’t touch. Daniel missed his touch.
“I’m guessing it didn’t go well,” Daniel said. “Considering you’re pouting in here, too,”
“I’m not pouting,” Armand said, his voice void of emotion and so quiet Daniel was surprised he heard him at all. “Come out of there, please.” He ordered.
Daniel pushed the quilt back down. He rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling as Armand turned his head to the side and stared at him. His eyes burned against his cheek as they sat in silence, neither knowing what to say to explain how they felt. Armand lowered his hand and took Daniel’s into it, running his thumb over the back of his palm.
“Good news, huh?” Daniel said finally, unable to stand the quiet any longer. “You get,” He paused, waving his spare hand at himself. “This for a little while longer,”
Armand frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“Look, it’s okay if you want me like this again,” Daniel said, trying to sound genuine. “I get it. It’s not exactly fun walking about with your geriatric boyfriend,” He said, talking quickly to get through his thoughts. “I just need time to adjust, okay? I’m not going to lie and say that I hate everything about this, but –,” He sighed unable to think of what to say to explain his true thoughts.
“But this isn’t you,” Armand said. “And I do not prefer it, or relish in it. While I admire your past beauty – and you are still beautiful to me, yes – I am not going to stop looking for a way to bring you back to me as you truly are,” He announced with the kind of sombre promise that felt like a vow, like he was swearing on something holy or grand that this is what he would do.
Armand sat up, looking down at Daniel he curled his wrist towards his chest, holding Daniel’s hand there like he was afraid it would disappear. “Listen to me, beloved,” He began. “I had the honour of loving this face, of knowing the man who wore it, but that love holds nothing to the way I feel about the man who returned to me, listing off demands and disparaging comments,” A slow smirk pulled at his lips as Daniel began to laugh. He brought Daniel’s hand to his lips and kissed it gently.
“So,” Daniel paused.
“Daniel?”
“You aren’t happier with me like this?” He asked finally.
“If you were to stay this way, it would not pain me,” He said. “But only because I would have the honour of witnessing you return to the vision of your true self first-hand.”
Daniel pulled his hand from Armand’s hold and brushed his cheek with the pad of his thumb. “Come here.” He said, wrapping his hand around the back of Armand’s neck and pulling him down to lay his head on his chest.